


Turnovers and the World’s Worst Date

by lilsamarooo



Series: The Horrifying Adventures of Jaskier and Bee! [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, POV Jaskier | Dandelion, Pre-Slash, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25206688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilsamarooo/pseuds/lilsamarooo
Summary: Jaskier hissed as a bit of the paper cup he’d pulled on cut into his index finger. Finn’s eyes snapped to the small bead of blood welling along the wound and the man licked his lips instinctively. “…You okay?”“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Jaskier reassured, covering up the cut with a clean napkin. “It’s only a bit of blood.”OrIt’s been two weeks since Jaskier’s near death experience, but he’s not gonna let being traumatized ruin his date night! It’s only fitting that Destiny decides to ruin it anyway. Hey, at least the turnovers were good.
Relationships: Eskel & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Lambert
Series: The Horrifying Adventures of Jaskier and Bee! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1826122
Comments: 36
Kudos: 178





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Make sure to read the previous fic in this series before you start this one! Happy reading :D

❧

In the two weeks that it took for Jaskier’s ankle to heal, the barista had gotten his doors replaced, much to his landlord’s annoyance, and he’d gotten a new mirror, this time from IKEA and not some shady flea market.

The bruises around his neck faded and soon, the only reminder of the supernatural attack was a slight numbness in his left cheek. The lack of feeling in his face was unnoticeable to all but him, and Jaskier found he didn’t really mind the slightly unnerving numbness when he ran his fingers over the area. The thing he _did_ mind was the voices.

It had started a week after Geralt and the others had left. He’d been walking home from his shift (the couple that owned the shop said he could stay home, but he knew they didn’t have any other employees to help with the shop), when he froze next to a white cross by the side of the road. The ones someone would put up when someone passes from an accident. The sight wasn’t the reason he’d stopped, no, it was the _voice_ he’d heard inside his head when he’d gotten close enough to it.

 _“I didn’t even see him coming,”_ a woman’s voice whispered, and Jaskier whipped around. The voice had sounded like it was coming from… inside his head. The woman kept going as Jaskier frantically looked around for the source of the voice, but there was nobody around him. _“I wasn’t ready to go, I wasn’t ready to leave… I hope he ROTS!”_ the woman shrieked, and Jaskier felt his head throb painfully, ears popping at the high pitched scream that felt like it was tearing at the inside of his skull.

Forcing himself not to curl up in the middle of the sidewalk in front of the midday traffic, Jaskier looked once more to be absolutely sure that there was nobody screaming near him, he booked it back to his apartment. The farther he got from the cross, the quieter the constant screaming had gotten until he could only hear a whisper in his mind, ranting about a car crash that could have been avoided.

That night, as Bee curled up on his lap and meowed worriedly at his panicked behavior, Jaskier looked up what hearing voices in his head meant. Google had results ranging from schizophrenia to signs of early death, which made his heart pound painfully fast in his chest, but one article caught his eye. “ _In rare cases, auditory hallucinations are a symptom of PTSD._ ”

“That’s it!” Jaskier exclaimed, startling the Maine Coon. “Bee, I’m not crazy, I’m just traumatized!”

Bee looked at him with her intelligent amber eyes that, at the moment, seemed to say, “I don’t know if that’s an improvement or not.”

“I’ll see a therapist later.” The barista wrinkled his nose at the thought of sitting down on a couch for an hour and trying to explain that he was traumatized because of the ghost of a little girl that’d tried to kill him in his bathroom, and now he was hearing strange women screaming in his mind. That wouldn’t go well for anyone.

That had been a week ago. Now, Jaskier was getting ready for his first date in months. His ex, Valdo, had left him a wreck and anxious to go for anyone new, but there was this nice man that lived on the floor below him, Finnley, and he and Jaskier had met in the elevator a bit after Jaskier had gotten his new mirror.

Finn had olive skin with dark brown eyes, the color of soil after a rainy day. He was funny and had these adorable dimples when he smiled wide, and Jaskier knew he had it bad when he’d offered the barista his coat when they’d been caught in the rain together. Finn had asked if he could buy the barista a drink, and Jaskier sure as hell wasn't going to let some voices in his head keep him from the one normal thing going on in his life.

Closing his laptop, Jaskier glanced at Bee’s bowls and made sure she had enough food and water. He was only going to be gone a few hours, but if his baby went to bed hungry or thirsty, he’d never forgive himself. Especially now, because lately Bee had been cozying up to him whenever he was feeling that overwhelming sense of panic and anxiety, and Jaskier found that her warm weight on his chest or his legs helped ground him. He didn’t know where this had come from, but he wasn’t complaining one bit.

Finally, the clock hit 9 PM and a moment later he heard a knock coming from the front door. For one horrible second, all Jaskier could think about was that little girl, tapping on his bathroom counter, but then Bee was there, rubbing against his legs and purring comfortingly. Jaskier leaned down to stroke the large cat and whispered “I’ll be back soon!” before opening the door.

“Finn, hey! I feel overdressed now,” Jaskier said, blushing. Finn was wearing khaki shorts and a baby blue T-shirt, and Jaskier had on black skinny jeans with a white button up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows in the summer heat.

The other man smiled and shook his head. “No, you look amazing,” he said, reaching out and taking Jaskier’s hand in his own. “Ready to have the best turnovers in the city?”

They’d both agreed on a small cafe almost ten minutes away, and Finn had sworn that they had the best pastries he'd ever eaten. Soon enough they were in Finn’s sedan, driving down the nearly empty road and talking about everything under the sun. Jaskier was having a great time, until they were stopped at a red light and Jaskier realized that yet again, he was close to another roadside memorial cross. If he opened his door, he could’ve touched it. The barista stopped mid-sentence as another voice sounded in his head, a male this time.

 _“My boy…”_ The man sounded old, voice croaky with age, and Jaskier shut his eyes, wishing Bee was here with him. His heart was rabbit-quick and he felt sick to his stomach. _“I will never see my boy again, and it’s all YOUR FAULT. HOW COULD YOU?!”_

The voice ranted and raved in his mind, the volume forcing Jaskier to quickly choke off the whimper that’d nearly escaped his throat. His head felt like it was about to explode and his eardrums strained with the volume. _This was a bad idea,_ the barista thought, digging his nails into his palms. _I should’ve stayed home, I can’t do this. I don’t know what the hell is going on, I feel like I’m going insane-_

“Jaskier, you okay?” Finn asked, glancing over at him as the light turned green. The car got farther and farther away from the cross and Jaskier exhaled shakily as the horrible screaming faded with it.

“I’m fine, just a little nervous,” he admitted, lowering his eyes.

“Don’t be,” the other man said with a small smile. “I think you’re a great person to be around.”

Jaskier returned his smile. “I think so too.”

A pause.

“I mean I also think you’re a good person to be around as well, I wasn’t saying that I’m a good person to be arou- well I _am_ a good person to be around, I just meant-”

❧

An hour later, the two were sitting in a booth, turnovers devoured and coffee (tea for Jaskier, actually) cups empty.

“You were right,” Jaskier said, smiling and toying with his cup. “These really are the best turnovers in the city.”

“Told you so,” Finn smirked, putting his card back in his wallet. He’d insisted that Jaskier didn’t need to pay, even though the barista already had his own wallet out. Jaskier hissed as a bit of the paper cup he’d pulled on cut into his index finger. Finn’s eyes snapped to the small bead of blood welling along the wound and the man licked his lips instinctively. “…You okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Jaskier reassured, covering up the cut with a clean napkin. “It’s only a bit of blood.”

Drinks and food paid for, they headed outside and stopped beside Finn’s car. The moonlight made his skin look eerily pale, a contrast from his usual warm olive skin. His eyes were darker in the moonlight too, pupils and irises blending together in the low light to form a soulless, hungry gaze, so unlike Finn’s regularly comforting brown eyes.

“Hope you enjoyed the drinks,” the man said lowly, bringing his arms up to box Jaskier against the car. There was a distinct sense of _wrongness_ about the man in the moonlight, and Jaskier’s insects were telling him to _get away, it’s not safe._ Laughing nervously, the barista was about to respond when Finn continued. “Now it’s time for _dessert_.”

Jaskier barely had time to suck in a breath to scream before needle-sharp teeth latched into his artery and _sucked._

He stood like that, trapped, as a warm, calming feeling began to spread through his body. His mind was screaming at him to defend himself but… what was wrong? He felt wonderful…

Finn’s hand touched his cheek, rubbing over the numb skin there and immediately snapping Jaskier out of whatever trance he’d been in. Remembering his single year of self defense that his father had signed him up for as a teen, Jaskier drew back his fist and all but smashed it against Finn’s windpipe. The man stumbled backwards, coughing and snarling, lips drawn back to reveal sharp fangs tinged with blood, _Jaskier’s_ blood, but that wasn’t all.

Where the whites of his eyes should’ve been, Finn’s were pitch black. His irises and pupils were a deep crimson color, and they were slitted, like Geralt and his brothers’, but more malicious. More monstrous.

Gasping, Jaskier lurched away from the car and booked it, his barely healed ankle throbbing at the sudden sprint. As he ran, Jaskier’s mind spun in frantic circles. There was no one to help him, he’d already run away from the cafe and his house was ten minutes away by _car_. He couldn’t call Priscilla, she was out of town, and- oh!

Jaskier ducked behind an abandoned building, hurriedly fishing the card Geralt gave him out of his jacket pocket. He’d forgotten it was there, but the man had said to call him in case of another… special problem, right? Jaskier punched in the number and held the phone up to his ear with a shaking hand, eyes darting frantically from shadow to shadow, trying to guess how much time he had before Finn found him. His breathes came out in harsh, panicked gasps, and he almost cried when nobody picked up the phone. A tinny, automated message played in his ear.

_“The person you’re trying to reach cannot answer their phone right now. Please leave a message after the tone.”_

_Beeeeep_

“Geralt, you have to help me! I’m being chased by my date who I _thought_ was normal but then he had fangs and he was sucking my _blood,_ and now I don’t know where he is and I don’t know where I am either. We live in the same apartment, his name is Finnley. Oh gods, I think I hear him. Please _, help m-_ _no, NO! Finn, PLEASE-”_

_“Your message has been sent. Thank you.”_

❧


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: pretty sure this is a panic attack? I just described how I feel when I get overwhelmed, not really sure what it is really lol.  
> Sorry if thiere’s typos, it’s currently 3 AM and I don’t have a beta reader :,)

❧

Jaskier’s head was pounding. Blood slowly trickled down his face from the cut on his temple. He kept his eyes shut, breathing as evenly as possible. The last thing he remembered was Finn finding him and slamming his head against the brick wall of the building he’d been hiding behind and then… nothing.

Moving his arms and legs, Jaskier silently groaned when he felt rope tying his arms behind him and his ankles to the legs of the chair he was seated on. A fourth piece of rope ensured that his chest was firmly held against the back of the chair. Jaskier couldn’t hear anything around him moving, so he slowly opened his eyes.

A small lamp stood on an end table next to a dark gray couch. The soft yellow glow it cast helped Jaskier to see almost to the edges of the otherwise pitch-black room. Trying to calm his thundering heartbeat, the barista took in the circular coffee table in front of him. The chair he was on had clearly been dragged from a kitchen table, because he was sitting with the back of the chair pressed against the front of the couch. The sudden sound of footsteps made Jaskier jolt and twist his head to look behind him.

“-not kidding, Peter, the thing’s special. He’s some weird ass half-human, but he still tastes better than anyone I’ve ever drank from. Hell, I let my fangs out in the middle of a _parking lot_ because his blood smelled so good! Just… get your ass over here before I drain him dry. I’m not leaving leftovers,” Finn snarled, coming to stand directly behind Jaskier’s chair, a hand coming to wrap around his neck loosely. The other man smirked at the violent flinch the action prompted. “You’re not scared of me, Jaskier, are you? I thought we were getting along swell!”

“Fuck you,” the barista spat, twisting his torso in a hopeless attempt to loosen the knots around him. The hand around his neck tightened at his words, nearly cutting off his air and reducing him to wheezing gasps. Tears streamed from his eyes and his throat felt like it was being crushed in Finn’s iron grip. Just as dark spots threatened to overtake his vision, Finn let go and stepped back while laughing cruelly, leaving Jaskier coughing and bent over as far as the ropes would allow.

Watching Finn through his squinted eyes, Jaskier felt a jolt of fear run through him. What if Geralt and the others didn’t get here in time? What if he died here and nobody knew what happened to him? Who would take care of Bee?

It was that thought that made the barista’s body shake with silent sobs. Who would be there for Bee if he was gone? Would his baby go to another kind owner or would she be thrown into a shelter to be put down? Oh gods, what if nobody checked in on her at his apartment? How long would it take for her to run out of food and water, calling for him when she needed more?

“Please…” Jaskier sobbed, a horribly painful ache spreading through his chest as he imagined his sweet Bee hungry and alone, crying for him to come back. “Please just let me _go._ ”

“Hmm…” Finn tilted his head, grinning at Jaskier with his _literal_ shark teeth. “I don’t think I will.” Walking up to him, the man grabbed Jaskier’s jaw in a painful grip and jerked his head to the side. Running his index finger lightly over the barista’s neck, Finn smirked at the jump in his pulse. “I’ve never tasted a… whatever the fuck you are with blood this good,” he said, finally dipping his head down and biting into Jaskier’s neck, directly under the other bite mark.

Crying out, Jaskier tried to twist his head away, but Finn’s grip was firm. He tried to fight against the sense of calm threatening to wash over him, promising to take away his pain and help him. Digging his nails into his palms, Jaskier groaned as his skin broke and tried to hold on to the pain. He had to try and resist, or else he’d be dead.

The strange feeling of blood being pulled from him with every suck of the other man’s mouth on his neck made him sick to his stomach, and Jaskier shuddered at the puffs of hot air on his skin when Finn exhaled through his nose, not even stopping his drinking to properly breathe. Jaskier sat there for what felt like hours, but was more likely minutes, distancing himself from his mind until it felt as though he was watching his body from the outside. His eyelids were heavy and droopy, and he blinked sluggishly in an effort to stay awake. All it did was make him realize that the darkness was much more appealing than this. Anything was better than this.

Tears still dripped from his eyes, and broken whimpers escaped his throat, and Jaskier resigned himself to the realization that nobody was coming for him. He was going to die here and nobody was going to save him. Strangely, this thought wasn’t as surprising as he thought it’d be. What a fool he’d been, to put his trust, his _life_ , in the hands of three burly strangers that had broken into his house. He should’ve called the _police_ , told them that he was being chased, but instead he’d wasted his time by calling three unreliable men with a shady business card and they hadn’t even picked up. He would’ve been more angry at them if he wasn’t so disappointed in himself.

With that thought, Jaskier closed his eyes and finally gave in to the calmness that’d been calling to him from the start. Nothing hurt anymore. Nothing was scary anymore. Maybe it was because he was so caught up in that utter nothingness that he didn’t notice the front door flying off its hinges with a fearsome _bang_. He didn’t notice the white haired man holding a wicked-looking wooden stake with a point as thin as a needle. He didn’t notice the two men that raced in behind him, teeth bared and eyes slitted until they were barely visible against their irises.

He _did_ notice the feeling of teeth being ripped out of his neck, blood dripping sluggishly from the twin holes above his collarbone. The feeling of rough hands, trying desperately to be as gentle as possible, untying the painfully tight ropes wrapped around him. The feeling of another pair of hands, grasping his shoulders with a grip that was _just_ on the verge of painful. The sound of his name being called, the voice laced with panic, was what brought him back to himself.

“-askier, _please_ . You’re safe now, I _swear_ you’re safe. Just breathe with me, Jaskier, you have to breathe.” Jaskier numbly noticed that he was gasping for breath, shaking like a leaf in the wind, but he couldn’t bring himself to calm down. How could he, when the feeling of his blood being sucked from his neck in rough pulls was still so fresh in his mind?

 _Bee would know what to do,_ Jaskier thought, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to cut off the scream he felt rising in his throat. Everything was too much. The panicked voices, the feeling of so many hands on his body, the brightness of the single lamp and the light streaming in from the hallway through the broken front door.

“ _Bee_ ,” he managed to get out, clenching his jaw so hard it felt like his teeth would crack. “N-need Bee.”

“Bee? His _cat_ ?” He heard one of the brothers ask. The voice sounded incredulous, as if he couldn’t imagine why Jaskier would bring up his cat at a time like this. Another wave of icy panic crashed through his body and the barista groaned, digging his fingers into his eyes at the sudden, intense need for everything to _stop._

“Okay, okay,” a third voice soothed, and he felt himself being lifted up and cradled in a pair of strong arms. “Let’s go to Bee, would that help, Jaskier?” The barista could do nothing but nod and bury his face into the man’s chest, letting out a small whimper as they stepped into the brightly lit hallway. The elevator ride was so tense that Jaskier would have laughed if he hadn’t just been nearly killed by his date.

Jaskier didn’t know how they’d gotten into his apartment, he just hoped he wouldn’t have to ask his landlord to change his locks for the second time this week. He was gently laid down on the couch, and within moments the barista heard a loud _“Ow! It fucking bit me!”_ followed by an angry hiss. Small, pattering footsteps sounded on the hardwood and _finally_ , Bee hopped onto the couch, stepping delicately onto his chest and purring loud enough to rival a motorcycle engine. She curled up into a big orange pile of fluff and meowed encouragingly when Jaskier brought his hand up to bury his fingers in her soft fur.

It was a long while before he took a deep breath and opened his eyes. The three brothers were seated on the hardwood floor, looking up at Bee with varying levels of wonder as they whispered in hushed tones like children trying to avoid being caught awake during nap time.

“-aybe she’s a service animal? Some states say that they can be cats too.”

“What if it used to be a familiar? That would explain why it’s so in tune with his emotions and shit.”

“First of all, she’s a _she_ , not an _it._ Second of all, why would a witch give up their familiar that easily?”

“Here’s a thought,” Jaskier interrupted, his voice sounding more frog-like than human. “Maybe she’s just a regular cat.”

All three pairs of eyes snapped to him and in less than a second he was getting squished by a very relieved, very _heavy_ brother. “Jaskier, you’re back!” Lambert cheered, and the barista squirmed until they were both sitting on the couch with Jaskier in the middle and a very disgruntled Bee in his lap. Eskel sat on his left, his hand stretching out to let Bee take a curious sniff. Geralt stood in front of the three of them, looking at Jaskier with his typical scowly frown.

“What’s with the long face?” Lambert imitated Geralt’s frown, which only made the frown deepen, causing his brothers to burst out laughing. Jaskier smiled, but he was still tired from the whole ordeal and he wasn’t feeling the best with all the blood Finn had… sucked. Gods, Finn had drunk his _blood._

The three men noticed his abrupt change and this time it was Geralt that spoke softly. “Jaskier, what happened?”

He hesitated, not knowing how to start. Not really ready to talk about it either, but he should just do it now and rip it off like a bandaid, right? “I… my date and I were next to his car and he just suddenly bit my neck,” the barista whispered, not trusting himself to speak any louder and break the tense silence that’d fallen upon the room. “I punched him and he stumbled back, and I saw that h-he had _fangs_ and his eyes were red, and I _ran._ I ran and I ducked behind a building. I tried to call you but you d-didn’t answer,” Jaskier said, closing his eyes against the fresh wave of tears that threatened to fall. “I called for help, and you didn’t _answer…_ ”

“I’m so sorry, Jaskier.” Geralt’s arms wrapped around him and Jaskier sighed shakily, feeling very small and saddened. “We came as soon as we heard the message _,_ I swear.”

He looked up at the taller man and tried to force his bottom lip to stop trembling. “He hit my head against the building and when I woke up, he was on the phone. He said he’d never tasted a half-human as good as me before, and then he hung up and started drinking my blood,” Jaskier finished, skipping over most of the traumatic details. “Why did he say I’m a half-human, Geralt?”

He felt Lambert and Eskel shifting on either side of him. Geralt was looking at him as if he was wishing he could see under his skin, see his genetics and DNA. “I don’t know, but if he called another vampire over, it’s not safe for you to stay here alone. You should come with us.” The two brothers at his sides nodded and Jaskier looked into their eyes and saw nothing but sincerity and concern. He nodded.

Grabbing clothes and stuffing them into a bag was easy enough. The hard part was getting Bee in her cat carrier. The poor thing snarled and hissed violently when Eskel put her in the carrier, and she wouldn’t let him so much as look in her direction without letting out a small warning growl. Jaskier told the man that he could put Bee in the carrier instead, but Eskel had insisted.

Necessities packed, the barista took one last, long look at his apartment and tried to remind himself that it was only for a few days. Soon, the four were standing in front of a large, black pickup truck covered in dried mud, and Jaskier couldn’t decide if Destiny was trying to kill him or apologize for the shittiest date he’d ever been on.

Hey, at least the turnovers were good, right?

❧

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forehead kisses and pets named after bugs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! I finally finished it :,)

❧

It was a dark and stormy night-

Okay, really it was a well lit night because of the upcoming full moon and the weather was quite nice, but that wasn’t the point. The _point_ was that Jaskier was squished between Lambert and Eskel and he had the right to be dramatic. Geralt was driving the pickup, and the passenger seat was occupied by Jaskier’s backpack, the brothers’ still-bloody stake, and Bee in her carrier. This meant that Eskel, Lambert, and him had to share the three seats in the back. Apparently the truck bed was full because of the absurd amount of weapons the three men carried in the back of their truck. Everything from guns to a strange lantern that helped with paranormal communication.

Jaskier had been given a ratty blanket that smelled faintly of wet dog when Eskel had noticed him shivering while jerking in and out of sleep. Luckily, the three must have sensed their guest wasn’t in the mood to talk, because they were quiet for the most part, whispering something about tracking the second vampire, Peter. In the end, they decided that the most important thing was making sure Jaskier was in a safe place.

Squirming in an attempt to get more comfortable, a glint caught Jaskier’s eye and he turned to look out of the window.

_Oh gods…_

A cemetery. They were about to drive right through a cemetery. Crosses and gravestones were placed on either side of the road and large, rusty gates signaled the start of the plot. Jaskier could already hear the faint murmuring of hundreds of voices, steadily growing louder the closer they got to the gates.

He couldn’t do this. He should just ask Geralt to drive around, or go another way, but why would they listen? He couldn’t tell them it was because he was hearing voices whenever he got near a cross, that would sound psychotic! Jaskier’s stomach knotted and he braced himself for the wave of screams and shouts that were about to crash over him, shutting his eyes tight and fisting the blanket tightly as they drove past the looming gates. _Here we go-_

_“-where am I? I don’t know where I am! Help me, please-”_

_“-I can’t see, please, I can’t see! It’s so dark, everything is so cold…”_

_“-I don’t understand! I haven’t done anything wrong, why am I here? What did I do-”_

“Jaskier? What’s wrong?” Eskel asked, worriedly placing a hand on the barista’s shoulder. “You’re shaking.”

Everything was too _loud._ Jaskier let out a pained whimper and he held back the urge to scream when Geralt pulled over on the side of the road, right in the middle of the cemetery. No, they needed to _leave,_ not stop!

“My _head_ ,” Jaskier choked out as the screaming in his head got even louder, how was that even possible? The pressure grew and grew and he was faintly aware of the brothers asking him if he was okay, but he couldn’t even think over the cacophony in his mind. A warm wetness trickling down his neck made him realize that oh, his ears were bleeding. _That’s not good,_ he thought before the world tilted and his vision went dark.

❧

_Ugh… did I sleep in again? Why is this pillow so warm? Gods, it’s moving around so much…_

_Wait-_

Jaskier’s eyes snapped open, landing on the sleeping body underneath him. He didn’t remember much from last night, only driving up to a house in a typical cookie-cutter neighborhood around three in the morning. They’d unlocked the door and he’d had his head checked once they were inside, and then he’d slept in… Gerelt’s room.

Said man was sleeping like a log, one arm pinning Jaskier down. Their legs were tangled under the sheets and the barista’s head was comfortably pillowed on Geralt’s chest. This was surprisingly… nice.

Too bad he couldn’t have it.

Why would Geralt want to be with him? A guy that gets traumatized by monsters and hears… dead people voices in his head. If it were him, Jaskier would run in the other direction. No, he had no chance with the white haired man.

Sighing, Jaskier tried to squirm out of Geralt’s grip. A surprised yelp escaped him when the arm tightened around him, pulling him impossibly closer. Geralt’s eyes opened slowly, blinking sluggishly a few times before landing on him. The whole thing reminded the barista of an adorable sleepy puppy. Jaskier could see the exact moment Geralt registered who was in his bed, his eyes widening a fraction and his arms loosening.

“G’morning,” Geralt slurred, covering his mouth on a yawn. “How’s your head, Jask?”

_Jask?_

That was a new one. Everyone he knew called him Jaskier or Julian. His mom called him Jules when she was in a good mood, but that didn’t happen much anymore with him being a disappointment and all. It sounded nice when Geralt said it; the deep rumbles his chest made when he spoke were comforting. Jaskier huffed a laugh, thinking of Bee’s rumbling chest whenever she purred. Where _was_ Bee?

“Morning,” Jaskier said, propping himself up on an elbow. “It’s okay now, I think. D’you know where Bee is?”

“She’s right here.” Pointing to the end of the bed, Geralt muffled his laughter at Jaskier’s shocked face. In his defense, he’d thought the ball of fur was just another pillow on the bed.

“Bee?” The Maine Coon poked her head out at the sound of her name and Jaskier’s face lit up. Gathering the large cat into his arms, he cooed and scratched behind her ears as Geralt watched with a small smile on his face. Jaskier didn’t think he’d ever seen Geralt smile before. His stomach growling loud enough to rival a grizzly bear startled him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, we should probably head downstairs,” Geralt said, and Jaskier silently whined when the taller man pulled away from him. “Your clothes are bloody, so you can wear these and I’ll wash yours in the meantime.” A black shirt with large gray sweatpants was handed to him, and Jaskier was given a toothbrush and shown the bathroom in the hallway.

After slipping on the shirt, which nearly came down to his knees, Jaskier gave up on trying to cuff the sweatpants, leaving them pooled around his feet. The collar of the shirt annoyingly slipped from his shoulder and after several attempts to fight it, Jaskier resigned himself to his fate.

“How do I look?” Jaskier asked, spinning in a circle when he met up with Geralt in the hallway. The man made a choked noise and mumbled a small “good” before leading him downstairs, Bee in his arms.

The stairs led to the living room, and the kitchen was past that. The whole space was open and had a cozy feel to it, all wooden furniture and warm tones. Lambert and Eskel were already seated at the kitchen table, and they exchanged an amused look at Jaskier’s borrowed clothes.

“Oh, the two sleeping beauties are finally awake,” Lambert said, and Geralt scowled at him. Jaskier sat down next to Eskel, setting Bee on the floor and jumping at the bark that came from the living crate in the living room he hadn’t noticed. A brown American pitbull terrier sat in the middle of the crate, lounging lazily on a soft looking blanket.

“Don’t worry, she’s fully trained,” Eskel said, noticing Jaskier looking nervously towards Bee. “Roach wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“… you named your dog Roach?”

“Well she’s Geralt’s dog, and your cat’s name is Bee so-”

“Is this your way of saying that Bee is a bad name-”

“Okay, time for breakfast,” Geralt interrupted, rushing over with a pan full of scrambled eggs. Jaskier thanked him and dug in, potential argument forgotten. He was putting his plate in the sink ten minutes later when he looked at the time on his phone and jolted.

“Oh gods, I have work today! I have to be there in five minutes, I’m never gonna make it-”

“I’m sure your boss won’t mind if you miss one day, Jask.” Geralt put an arm around his shoulders and steered him towards the living room couch. “You were pretty out of it yesterday.”

Jaskier shook his head. He’d been trying to avoid telling anyone, but he needed to get to work. “I don’t… I don’t make a lot working at a coffee shop,” he started, already hating the confused looks the brothers were giving him. “And I need to pay rent, so that means working five days a week, no sick days or anything like that-”

“Wait… so you were working with a twisted ankle? After the ghost?” Lambert asked, looking shocked. Jaskier nodded and smiled a bit as he watched Bee approach Roach’s crate, sniffing the bars and startling when the dog sneezed.

“It wasn’t too bad, I just took a bunch of painkillers. Couldn’t do anything about the nightmares, though,” he said, shrugging. Geralt sat next to him and pulled the barista into a tight hug, and Jaskier hid his face in the man’s chest.

“Was that why your head hurt last night?” Eskel asked, and Jaskier froze. How would they react if he said he was hearing the voices of dead people? Would they think he was a monster, like the things they hunted? They would kick him out for sure, and he would never see them again. Why would they keep someone like him around?

“No, that was just a migraine,” he mumbled, turning his head. Geralt shifted, and Jaskier worried that he could see right through his lie, but the taller man didn’t say anything. “I should be getting home though.”

“I’ll get the truck ready,” Geralt said, standing and heading to a door Jaskier assumed led to the garage. The barista stood and scooped Bee up in his arms, petting Roach when Lambert let her out of her crate. The dog was happy to chew on a toy on the carpet, and Jaskier put Bee down, watching as they sniffed at each other.

“Aww they’re friends!” Jaskier grinned when Bee curled up next to Roach, hesitantly stretching a paw out to bat at the chew toy as well. The two brothers smiled and Jaskier apologized to Bee when it was time for her to go back in her carrier. Geralt led him outside and Jaskier said goodbye to the two brothers, hugging them tightly and thanking them for yet again saving his life.

Fifteen minutes later they were standing outside of Jaskier’s apartment. The barista smiled and hugged Geralt, probably for longer than necessary but nobody was there to see except his rude, nosey next door neighbor, Mr. Johnson. The old man peeked at them from where he was taking a ridiculously long time to unlock his door.

“Just in case,” Geralt started, and Jaskier reluctantly let go of the taller man. “Here’s my personal number. Hopefully you won’t have to call because you’re being chased by a vampire next time. If you do, though, I’ll answer it.”

Jaskier smiled, taking the piece of paper he’d offered. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Before Jaskier could regret it, he pressed a small kiss to Geralt’s cheek. Stepping back, he opened the door to his apartment and grinned. “Thanks again for saving me. You’re like a superhero!”

Geralt blushed and looked away. “It’s nothing.”

Gods, was Mr. Johnson _frowning_ at him? The nerve of that man.

“Mister Johnson, do you need help with your door? You’ve been standing there for a while,” he called, glaring at the old man as he scowled and slammed his door shut, mumbling something about sinning and repentance. Fuck him.

Smirking, Geralt stepped forward and placed a kiss of his own on Jaskier’s forehead, and the barista all but melted.

“I should get going. Text me when you get settled and _don’t_ go in to work today. You’re still weak from the blood loss.”

“Okay, _fine,_ no work today. I’ll text you,” Jaskier said, smiling.

“Bye, Jask.”

“Bye, Gerbear.” Jaskier giggled at the startled expression on the man’s face.

“Is that my thing now?”

“Yes, you’re my Gerbear!”

“… at last it has a nice ring to it.”

❧

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: more of Jaskier getting traumatized, sorry not sorry >:)

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos + Comments are appreciated! Don’t hesitate to tell me if you think I missed tags or warnings :)


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